


Him

by layercake



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Poetry, Post-Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layercake/pseuds/layercake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is the ember you cradle in the home you make out of your calloused hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Him

i.  
he is the ember you cradle  
in the home you make out of your calloused hands.  
he is the little bird who sings so beautifully  
for you,  
despite the hollowness of his feather light bones  
despite the winds that threaten to carry him far  
far away  
(from you)  
but you'd move heaven and earth for (you to stay by his side) him.

ii.  
when germany invades poland,  
he is no longer the ember that you cradle  
close to your heart,  
no longer the flame made brighter by the breath from your lungs.  
he is the bright blazing light of a star  
whose orbit you'll always fall into,  
for he is the order in your disordered world  
and you wouldn't mind giving him your heart. 

iii.  
in the end you fall.  
(you've fallen since you were fifteen,  
ever since you first knew what love meant  
and if love means flames and birdsong and the light of an ever bright star then who was to tell you any different).  
as the winter takes you for its own,  
you find that you don't mind the chill  
because he was safe and  
that was all you ever really breathed for. 

iv.  
when you wake  
there is red, so much red;  
red that is sticky and metallic  
that drips from the tips of your hand  
from the muzzles of your guns and  
from the edges of your knives  
into the well of your lungs and  
you can't breath through all the red that gushes into the gory sea of your body  
(out out damned spot).  
you wonder  
(how could you have ever breathed life into that little ember in the home of your hands  
when all your heart beats is _missionmissionmission_ )  
if the red will ever stop seeping into the corners of your vision every time you blink.

v.  
he is still the star you orbit,  
your little bird  
who sings for you even now  
that he is a phoenix.  
he takes your calloused hands in his own  
and as you rest your head on his shoulder,  
he tells you that  
you were all he ever really breathed for.

**Author's Note:**

> So erm poetry huh. Structure is partially inspired by e e cummings and his poem "Four". 
> 
> This is for Lucy who is currently stuck(y) in a Cap 2 coma (haha get it stucky) with me. Read with Sinatra playing in the background for extra ~effects~.


End file.
